


Built for a Kilt

by tinyarmedtrex



Category: IT (2017), IT (2019), IT - Stephen King
Genre: M/M, PWP, That's it, and at a wedding, ok there's more plot than I intended but whatever, richie is in a kilt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-29
Updated: 2019-05-29
Packaged: 2020-03-29 11:05:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,147
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19018642
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tinyarmedtrex/pseuds/tinyarmedtrex
Summary: Grabbing his beer Richie made a beeline to the man. As he got closer he saw how attractive he really was, delicate bird like features and gorgeous lips- even if they were turned down into a scowl. He seemed to be intent on personally judging everyone there, his eyes scanning everyone. Eventually they locked on Richie, watching as he walked over. Richie wasn’t exactly being subtle, he wanted the man to see him.When Richie finally reached him the guy gave him a long look, Richie wasn’t sure if he approved or not but he didn’t try to leave so Richie slid next to him, smiling. “Hey there, let me buy you a drink.”“It’s an open bar.”Richie grinned, “Even better. Let me buy you two drinks.” He held out his hand. “I’m Richie, cousin to the bride.”The man looked him over then shook Richie’s hand. “Stan, friend of the groom.”





	Built for a Kilt

**Author's Note:**

  * For [leighwrites](https://archiveofourown.org/users/leighwrites/gifts).



Richie looked around the wedding, already bored. The ceremony had been beautiful, his cousin was obviously deeply in love and their vows had been lovely and full of emotion, but now it was the reception and Richie found himself wanting to leave. He loved his family but he didn't want to spend the rest of his Saturday with them, especially as they got drunker and louder. That always lead to them asking him uncomfortable questions like when he’d be doing this and when he planned to get a haircut (at least the answers were easy since he could say ‘never’ to both). 

He scanned the dance floor, seeing all of his family in traditional scottish formal wear. The women were all wearing plaid somewhere, usually tucked somewhere subtle like in a piece of jewelry or as patterns on their shoes. The men’s outfits were exactly the opposite. There was no subtle way to wear a kilt and his family didn’t try. Most of them were wearing the family colors, yellow and brown, with a tuxedo top. Flasks or small pouches bumped against their hips and the dance floor was awash with bare hairy calves. 

Richie was no exception. He liked wearing the kilt, it was more comfortable than a suit and Richie had pretty sexy calves, if he did say so himself. One of his aunts had added braids to his usually wild red hair, pulling it back into something presentable. He looked pretty good, if he did did say so. Too bad it was wasted on his family. 

Then someone caught his eye. A man, standing apart from everyone else, dressed to the nines in a fancy tux and sipping something that looked expensive. He was definitely not related- he had light brown curls and none of the characteristic Tozier pluck. He must be related to the groom. 

Perfect.

Grabbing his beer Richie made a beeline to the man. As he got closer he saw how attractive he really was, delicate bird like features and gorgeous lips- even if they were turned down into a scowl. He seemed to be intent on personally judging everyone there, his eyes scanning everyone. Eventually they locked on Richie, watching as he walked over. Richie wasn’t exactly being subtle, he wanted the man to see him. 

When Richie finally reached him the guy gave him a long look, Richie wasn’t sure if he approved or not but he didn’t try to leave so Richie slid next to him, smiling.  “Hey there, let me buy you a drink.” 

“It’s an open bar.” 

Richie grinned, “Even better. Let me buy you two drinks.” He held out his hand. “I’m Richie, cousin to the bride.” 

The man hesitated then shook Richie’s hand. “Stan, friend of the groom.” 

“Well Staniel, why the long face? I saw it from across the room.” Richie asked, leaning against the wall and taking a long drink of his beer. 

Stan shrugged. “I don’t like weddings. Everyone just uses them as an excuse to get drunk and have sex.”

“And what’s wrong with that?” Richie asked, letting his eyes wander over Stan. His tux was clearly tailored for him, slim in the right places and accentuating his long torso. Richie badly wanted to muss it up, to see the man looking less orderly and more wrecked. 

“It’s unnecessary.” He replied, glancing at Richie. His eyes caught on the kilt. “Do you have to wear that for every wedding?”

“Get to.” Richie replied. Then he moved in, whispering in Stan’s ear, “Plus it lets my bits breathe.” 

He got to watch as Stan went red, coughing into his drink. “Are you always this forward?”

“Only with sexy guys that I’m not related to.” Richie replied, pointing at the dance floor. “Want to dance?” 

“No.” Stan shook his head. “Absolutely not.” 

Richie licked his lips. “Come on Stan, how else am I going to seduce you if I can’t show you my moves? It’s like with birds, you gotta do the mating dance.”

“Who says I want to be seduced?” Stan asked, tilting his head to look at him. He may be trying to play it cool but Richie saw the way his eyes darkened a little and how they raked his body. 

“It’s a wedding, it’s dancing or stand against the wall.” Richie stepped out, offering a hand. “What’s it gonna be?” 

Slamming the rest of his drink, Stan put the glass on a nearby table then took Richie’s hand, letting him guide them onto the dance floor. Richie immediately started to dance, raising his arms above his head and flailing around. Stan watched, barely moving at all. 

“If that’s your mating dance I can see why you’re single.” 

Richie smirked. “Oh baby, I’m just getting started.” Richie turned so his back was to Stan. He took the other man’s hands and put them on his hips before he started to move again. At first Stan tensed as Richie arched against him but then his grip tightened and he started to move against Richie, his hips bumping Richie’s. Richie resisted grinding against him, wanting Stan to come to him. He let himself move to the music, running his hands over Stan’s, admiring his long fingers. 

It didn’t take too long. He felt Stan moving against him, pressing against Richie’s back. 

“I was watching you, during the ceremony.” Stan whispered, his breath hitting Richie’s ear. “You looked so damn good in that kilt. I wanted to know what was underneath.” Stan’s hands bunched on the kilt, raising it an inch and Richie suppressed a shudder. This was working out better than he could have ever hoped.

“I’d be more than happy to show you.” Richie told him, grinding his ass against Stan’s hips. He was rewarded with a small gasp. He could feel Stan’s growing interest and he arched back again, wanting to hear that noise again. 

“You’re very forward.” Stan said, leaning in and running his nose along Richie’s neck. Desire burned in Richie’s stomach as Stan’s hands moved to the front of his hips, running under his belly button. 

“I’m impatient.” Richie replied, moving a hand behind him and grabbing Stan’s neck, drawing him closer. He was fully grinding on Stan now, unable to stop himself as he heard Stan’s breath hitch. 

Stan’s hands slipped down between Richie’s thighs, cupping him through the kilt. “Then let’s get out of here.” As he said it Stan palmed Richie, making him bite back a groan.

“Come on.” Richie took Stan’s hand, weaving them through the crowd and off the dance floor. He looked around, finding a small utility room and tugging Stan towards it. The door was unlocked and inside were extra tables and chairs. 

“Isn’t this awful close to the reception?” Stan asked, glancing at the door. They could still hear the music and conversation, muffled slightly.

“We’ll just have to be quiet.” Richie told him, grabbing Stan’s lapels and kissing him. Stan eagerly returned the kiss, bringing his hands to Richie’s back and running them up and down. Richie groaned into Stan’s mouth, deepening the kiss and moving his tongue against Stan’s.

Stan pulled back and Richie could barely make out a smirk. “I’m not sure you know how to be quiet.” He said, putting a hand on Richie’s thigh and trailing up. His eyes widened. “You really aren’t wearing underwear.” He said, wrapping a hand around the base of Richie’s erection and pumping him once. “Were you planning for something like this?” He teased, his fingers forming a loose ring around him, making Richie want more. 

“I told you, I like the air. And no, I could have never planned for someone like you.” Richie said before kissing Stan again. He made quick work undoing Stan’s tux jacket, untucking his shirt and pulling off Stan’s belt. He wanted to touch Stan, wanted to feel him. His hand slipped into Stan’s pants and the other man gasped as Richie grabbed him. Richie watched him fall apart, his calm face changed as Richie’s hand moved on him. 

“I don’t have anything for this.” Stan gritted out. His jaw was clenched and Richie could tell that he was trying not to moan.

Richie captured his lips in a long kiss, enjoying how Stan moaned into his mouth, how his hips arched into his hand. “That’s the joy of kilts, lots of pockets.” With his free hand he reached into a pocket and pulled out lube and a condom. “How do you want to do this?” He asked. 

Stan pulled back, eyes dark, and looked at Richie. “Bend over the table.” He ordered. “I want to fuck you.”

Richie couldn’t stop the moan falling from his lips. “Fuck, that’s so fucking hot.” Richie kissed Stan again, slipping a leg between Stan’s and grinding on him. For a minute, Stan allowed him to, his eyes shut, but then he stepped back. “Bend over.” He demanded. 

Richie eagerly compiled, folding himself over the table next to them. He felt Stan flip up his kilt, running his hand over Richie’s bare ass. He muttered how good he looked then slapped one of his cheeks, making Richie moan.

“You’ve got to be quiet.” Stan told him. Richie felt Stan’s cock trailing against his skin. “Otherwise I’ll find a way to keep you quiet.” His voice was husky and Richie knew he was serious. 

“Fuck Stan, I would have come over so much sooner if I had known you were gonna be like this.” He tried to arch back but Stan stepped back, a silent message that he was in control. 

Richie heard the familiar pop of the lube bottle then Stan asked, “I’m going to put a finger in, okay?” 

“Yes, fuck Stan. Stick it in, use those gorgeous fingers.” Stan chuckled then Richie felt a finger massaging his hole, circling the tight muscle before pushing in. He buried his face in his arm, whining and pushing against Stan. 

Stan opened him slowly, drawing out more whines and groans. His over hand slid over the base of Richie’s spine, a firm hand keeping him down. Finally, he heard Stan unzip his pants and the rip of a condom. “Are you ready?” Stan asked as Richie felt the head of his cock against him. 

Richie nodded but Stan didn't move. “You’ve got to say it, let me hear you say it Richie.” Stan said, pressing against him but not in. 

“I’m ready. I’m so fucking ready. Fuck me Stan.” Richie practically begged. Finally, he felt Stan push into him, slowly bottoming out then waiting for Richie to adjust. 

“Fuck Stan, you fill me up so well. God, I can feel you in my stomach.” Richie groaned, wiggling against Stan. “You’ve got to move, I need it.” 

That was all it took. Stan started thrusting into him. Richie felt Stan’s hands spread his cheeks, muttering again how good he looked, how pretty he was. Richie scrambled to grab something but the table was too wide, he was at Stan’s will, his hips thrusting against him. All Richie could do was press his cheek to the cool table and try not to cry out, knowing that there were people right outside the door. Stan was hitting his prostate straight on and Richie was seeing stars.  

“You look so good Richie,” Stan said, running a hand lovingly over his cheek. “Spread out in front of me.” Stan accentuated this with a harsher thrust. “You feel so good around me, so hot.” His voice was wrecked, husky and deep and Richie felt a familiar tug in his stomach. 

“ _ Shit _ , Stan touch me, please. I’m so close.” Stan’s hand snaked around, grabbing Richie and stroking him. It only took a few seconds then Richie was cuming, spilling over Stan’s hand and his thighs. He couldn’t stop his cry as he did. Stan’s thrust sped up, riding him through his orgasm then he felt Stan cum. His grip tightened then hips stuttered. He let out a strangled cry then stopped, taking a second then pulling out. 

Richie stood, adjusting his outfit as best he could and watching Stan toss the condom in a nearby trash can. He grabbed some napkins, cleaning himself up as Stan watched. Then he pulled Richie into a deep kiss, which Richie sighed into, bringing his hands to Stan’s face.

“Was I right or was I right? Didn’t that make the wedding more fun?” Richie asked, pulling his boyfriend closer and adjusting his tie. 

Stan hummed, pretending to think about it. “Maybe, except that your family kept asking if we were fighting since I wasn’t with you.”

Richie nuzzled Stan’s neck, leaving lazy kisses on his skin. “We’ll let’s go out there and convince them we’re fine. I owe you a slow dance or two.” 

Stan nodded, slipping his hand into Richie’s as they went to join the party. 

**Author's Note:**

> A birthday gift for my dear friend!! <3 
> 
> A line I really wanted to work in but couldn't-   
> That tux looks really good on you. It would also look really good on my floor. Or nicely folded and hung in my closet, since you look like a neat freak


End file.
